A Town Without Pity
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: Season 1. Joe takes a simple case to pick up a friend whose car was stolen. But when he doesn't return, and Lew is sent a horrific message, Lew journeys to the small town where Joe went to find out what happened. What he uncovers is a nest of hatred and revenge, but who is the real target?
1. Chapter 1

**Mannix**

**Town Without Pity**

**By Lucky_Ladybug**

**Notes: The characters from the show are not mine. The other characters and the story are! The time period has been moved to the present day. This is season 1-ish, but Peggy will play a small supporting role. Joe must have known her sometime before season 2, after all, since he and her husband were friends.**

**Chapter One**

It started out like a typical day at Intertect. Lew had selected a case he wanted Joe to take. And Joe really wasn't interested.

The secretaries and other agents didn't bat an eye when the arguing began. It was business as usual.

Sometimes they really wondered why Lew kept Joe on. Not even the men's close friendship could make Lew hold on to Joe if he felt he wasn't giving an adequate performance. But in spite of all of Joe's eccentricities, he always got the job done.

When he finally took it, of course.

"Lew, there's nothing to this case!" Joe exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "Why not give it to a younger agent who needs to lick his chops on a simple appetizer?"

"Because I'm not so sure it _is_ simple," Lew retorted, leaning on the desk with both hands. "You remember all the trouble Gus Fenwick got into before."

"Yeah, and that's exactly why I don't want anything to do with his latest problems," Joe retorted. "Last year. Remember last year? He thought someone was stalking him. It was an ex-boyfriend of his sister's, and he'd mistakenly got the idea that she and Gus were lovers instead of relations. He came after them with a high-powered rifle!" His hands went to his hips. "I barely got out of that one alive."

"And you can stand there and tell me to give a Gus Fenwick case to a green agent," Lew said, flatly staring at him. "Joe, you're the one who convinced me to relax and start hiring detective-wannabes who needed to get their mandatory years of experience under their belt. But that doesn't mean I'm going to give them cases that might very well be out of their league!"

"Every now and then there _have_ been some false alarms," Joe said. "That time Gus thought somebody was staring at him in a café and instead the guy was just trying to read the menu board from halfway across the room. Lew, I don't want to get mixed up in something like that again. Gus started a brawl and was kicked out of the place for life!"

"Alright, so Gus is paranoid," Lew said, adjusting his glasses. "Do you really think he's paranoid this time, too?"

Joe sighed in exasperation. "I don't know! So he's in some dinky town and thinks the whole population is against him. A lot of those small towns are really close-knit and don't like strangers. It doesn't mean they're all out to get anyone who rides in."

"It's more than a little strange that Gus's car disappeared that first night and then everyone started behaving as though he had the plague," Lew said. "I spoke to the sheriff on the phone and he was convinced—so he said—that Gus had hid his car and was deliberately trying to make the town look bad. Now, either the sheriff is paranoid or maybe, just maybe, he's part of whatever seems to be going on there. That's not our problem. All Gus wants is for you to drive in, pick him up, and drive out again. He asked specifically for you."

"They always do," Joe grunted.

"Gus knows you're my best agent," Lew said.

"He asked for me because I'm the one who always ends up doing business with him," Joe said. "If it was Mallory or Liza or Swanson, he would have asked for them instead."

Lew sighed in weary exasperation. "Well, it isn't them, Mannix. It's you. Are you going to go pick Gus up or not?"

"What happens if I don't?" Joe asked. "Will you fire me over a little case like this?"

"No. I think I'd take the case myself to prove that nothing would go wrong," Lew answered, dryly.

"Fine. Then why don't you?" Joe returned.

Lew stared at him. "You really mean that."

Joe shrugged. "You're the one who brought up the idea. Anyway, it'd be good for you to get out in the field."

"And what would you do here in the meantime?" Lew wondered.

"Oh, mind the store, talk to Chris, wait for a better case to come along," Joe said airily.

Lew gave him a hard look. "I have a mind to give you every dull case we get from now on," he declared. "You get into too many disastrous situations anyway. One of these days, you're not going to come out of one of them alive!"

"Well, you're so convinced that picking Gus up might not be a cakewalk," Joe said. "You say that, and yet you're trying to plug it to me by saying you don't really think anything will go wrong."

"I don't!" Lew exclaimed. "But just in case something does, I want an experienced agent there to handle it."

"Alright, Lew. Alright!" Joe headed for the door. "I'll take the stupid case. But if I'm not back in a couple of hours, don't say I didn't warn you!"

Lew gave him a look that said _Don't be so overdramatic!_

At the door, Joe paused. "What's the name of this place anyway?"

"Pine Lake," Lew said. "Talk to Pender; he'll get you directions."

"Thanks." Joe headed out of the office, shutting the door behind him.

Sighing to himself, Lew shook his head and sank down at his desk, shuffling through his papers.

A fond smile came over his features in spite of himself. Trying to get Joe to take a case he didn't want was always an adventure. It was frustrating, but Lew had to admire Joe's tenacity and stubbornness, even though as his boss he really shouldn't.

xxxx

The day proceeded without incident—at least until Joe did not return by the specified time.

At first Lew was not that concerned. Even things that were going alright often took longer than thought. But Joe hadn't checked in once, even to say that he had found Gus, and after another hour Lew actually was growing worried.

"He was just supposed to pick up Gus and come back to Los Angeles!" he ranted at Chris. "Unless he's deliberately trying to make me worry, something's gone wrong!"

Chris frowned. "And you can't reach him by phone, Mr. Wickersham?"

"No, I can't!" Lew ran a hand over his face. "And I tried calling the sheriff again. He claims he hasn't seen Mannix!"

"What are you going to do, Sir?"

Lew started to pace. "I'll give him another hour. After that, I don't know."

Chris regarded him in sympathy. She knew how many headaches Joe Mannix gave him. But she also knew Lew wouldn't want it any other way. And she could scarcely imagine Intertect without Joe around. In her heart she hoped the next hour would bring the positive result they both wanted.

xxxx

The hour passed, still with no word. Lew was busy typing away at his laptop when the phone rang towards evening. Pausing in his work, he reached over and lifted the receiver with a snap. "Wickersham." _Was it Mannix? Please let it be Mannix._

He blinked in surprise and disappointment at the voice that answered him. "Mr. Wickersham, this is Peggy Fair. Mr. Mannix is a friend of my husband's. He isn't still there, is he?"

Lew frowned, leaning back in the chair with the receiver. "No, he isn't, Mrs. Fair. I sent him on assignment."

"Oh." Peggy sounded oddly lost.

Lew certainly picked up on it. "Is something wrong, Mrs. Fair?"

"Well, yes," Peggy replied. "He was supposed to join us for an early dinner tonight. Then my husband had to go to work right after and Mr. Mannix still hadn't called to say why he was late. It isn't like him. Frankly, Mr. Wickersham, I'm worried."

Lew sat up straight. "You're right, Mrs. Fair," he said. "It isn't like him. He hasn't checked in here, either."

"If you don't mind my asking, what kind of assignment is he on?" Peggy demanded. "Maybe he's hurt."

"I'm sorry; I can't divulge that information," Lew said.

"Oh. Of course. It's confidential." Peggy's weak smile could be sensed over the phone. "That was stupid of me. I'm just so worried."

"Not at all. When it's Mannix, you probably have a legitimate reason to worry." Lew glanced at the clock. "I'll tell you what, Mrs. Fair. I'll try to locate him and let him know he should check in with you."

"Would you?" Peggy sounded as though a weight was being lifted from her shoulders. "Thank you!"

"Don't thank me until I have some luck," Lew cautioned. "I might not."

"If you can't . . ." Peggy trailed off. "Maybe he really is lying hurt somewhere."

Lew certainly wasn't about to admit that such thoughts had been dancing through his mind with increasing frequency. "He might be perfectly fine," he answered. "Maybe he simply isn't near his phone right now. I'll call you back in a few minutes, Mrs. Fair."

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Lew immediately lifted the receiver again and dialed Joe's car phone number for the umpteenth time. And for the umpteenth time, the phone rang and rang without being picked up. He slammed it down, worry flashing in his eyes.

"It was a simple assignment," he said aloud to nothing in particular. "He should have been done with it in a couple of hours and come back. Why is it that when he's involved, the smoothest case can turn into a second St. Valentine's Massacre?!"

He was about to grab the phone and ask for the Pine Lake police department when the door suddenly opened and a pale and horrified Chris entered the room. "Mr. Wickersham!"

Lew looked up with a start. "Yes? What is it?" He stared at his secretary. "What's wrong?!"

Chris suddenly choked. "Oh, Mr. Wickersham . . . !" She laid a telegram on Lew's desk. "This just came in. I can hardly believe it, but . . ." She hiccupped.

Lew looked from her down at the paper. Suddenly he was pale himself.

YOUR AGENT DEAD. SHOT IN BRAWL. WILL RETURN PERSONAL EFFECTS.

It was signed the sheriff of Pine Lake.

"Joe," Lew whispered in disbelief.

"Mr. Mannix, dead!" Chris moaned. "This is awful!" When Lew was unusually quiet, she looked to him with questioning eyes. "Mr. Wickersham?"

Lew slumped back. "It certainly _sounds_ like Mannix," he said, reeling from the shock.

"'Sounds'?" Chris studied her boss in confusion.

"It's the sort of trouble he'd get into," Lew elaborated. "But is it legitimate? I don't know." He got up and started to pace. "It's too pat, too vague. And why a telegram? Did the sheriff not want to call and speak to me or someone else from Intertect? Did he think someone would pick up on something in his voice or in the background?" Coming back to the desk, he grabbed up the telegram and shoved it in his pocket. Then he headed for the door.

"Mr. Wickersham, where are you going?" Chris frowned.

"To Pine Lake," Lew replied. "Chris, call Mrs. Fair, will you? Tell her I'm still trying to find Mr. Mannix and that she had better not wait up for information. It could take several hours."

Worried, Chris nevertheless nodded. "I'll call right now," she promised. "But Mr. Wickersham? Why would they say Mr. Mannix is dead if he isn't?"

"That's what I'm going to find out," Lew vowed as he went out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Joe was steaming mad. It seemed that everything that could have gone wrong with this assignment _had_ gone wrong.

First it had taken him far longer than it should have to even find the place. It was a blink-and-you'll-miss-it town, hidden among the pine trees and featuring a lake in one corner that was more the size of a large pond.

He had blown a tire as soon as he had rolled into town. And he had already been using his spare. He had been forced to go to the service station and buy another. The only one available wasn't quite the right size, but it fit good enough that Joe was insistent on trying it. He certainly wasn't about to wait there for someone from Intertect to bring another one in.

Gus was a bundle of nerves, as usual. He had been nearly, quite literally climbing the walls when Joe had found him, and as they had driven off, he had rambled on and on about the creepy town and how they must not really want him to leave. He had been certain that they would do something to prevent him from departing with Joe.

When they had got out of the town without incident, Joe hadn't believed him. But when the new tire hadn't lasted and they had ended up stranded several miles outside of another small town, and Joe had discovered that his car phone had been cut, he had to believe it.

Thoroughly disturbed, he was also confused and furious. Gus had kept rambling all the way to the next town, and while Joe had at first tuned him out, he had finally decided to actually listen, in case Gus possibly knew something that was a clue as to why this was happening to them. He hadn't deciphered any such clues.

The new town, Pine Cone, was even smaller than Pine Lake. The residents, however, had been fairly kind, instead of standing and staring silently as those in Pine Lake had done. But there was no telephone or Internet service. Joe hadn't been able to call and check in with Lew or the Fairs or anyone else. Nevertheless, one man had given them a car as a loan to get back to Los Angeles, which had left Joe and Gus both immensely grateful and their frustrations somewhat abated.

Joe had turned his thoughts over and over in his mind as he had driven back to the city. Something was definitely wrong with Pine Lake and its population, but there was no sense in it. Why would they try to keep Gus there? Why would they cut Joe's phone line? Why, why, _why?!_

By the time Gus was safely home and Joe was pulling in at Intertect, a long rant had built up in his heart. Of course he would be going back to Pine Lake; he had to get the car back to Pine Cone and he was determined to find out why the people of Pine Lake were so demented. But first he was going to tell Lew exactly what he thought of this whole aggravating episode.

He wasn't expecting anyone to even be at the office this late, except maybe Lew. It was a surprise to see quite a few lights still on at the building. But Joe received far more of a surprise when he stormed in and got off at the main Intertect floor. Everyone present turned to stare and jumped a mile.

"Joe," Pender gasped. "You . . . you're alive!"

Now Joe was staring. "Why wouldn't I be alive?" he retorted.

"Mr. Wickersham got a telegram that you'd been killed in Pine Lake," Pender replied.

Joe's eyes flashed. _"WHAT?!"_ Even after all this, that was one thing he had not expected in the least. "Where is he?"

"He went out looking for you hours ago," Pender said. "He's probably in Pine Lake himself by now."

Worry began to bubble up in Joe's stomach, dissipating his anger at Lew. "Oh, well, that's great. That's just great!" He turned to hurry out. Apparently he would be going back to Pine Lake even sooner than he had thought. With all of these things going on, no way was he going to sleep and just let Lew stay there all night. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

"Mr. Mannix!"

He spun around at the sound of Chris's voice. She had rushed into the room upon hearing all the voices. Her eyes shined with a mixture of relief, confusion, and worry.

"Yeah, I know—Lew got a telegram saying I'm dead," Joe said. "Obviously it's not true."

"That's not all," Chris said.

"What more can there be?!" Joe exclaimed.

"You missed a dinner engagement with the Fairs," Chris told him. "Mr. Fair had to go to work and Mrs. Fair has been growing increasingly worried about you. She called right before Mr. Wickersham left. She called again just a few minutes ago. He said for her not to wait up for news, but she has anyway."

Joe swore in his mind. It was enough for Peggy to worry about her husband possibly not coming home every time he went to work for the Los Angeles Police Department. Usually she accepted the possibility of danger and clung to the fact that he had always come home as of yet. But now she had been worrying about Joe's safety at the same time. No wonder she was still awake.

"Okay. I'll call her, but then I'm going back to Pine Lake," Joe said over his shoulder.

"Can't you just call Mr. Wickersham and tell him you're alright?" Chris blinked.

"With my track record tonight, I'm not so sure I'd get through," Joe retorted. But yes, he would try.

Moments later he slammed down the telephone in disgust. He had been right—Lew was not answering. Maybe he wasn't near his car, but Joe had the awful feeling that perhaps instead, Lew's phone had been cut this time. It wasn't something he was willing to gamble on. He had to get out there immediately.

Still, he took a moment to quickly dial the Fairs' number. There was no sense in cruelly leaving Peggy to wonder and worry while he took another long drive, the likes of which he wasn't sure when he would return from.

"Hello?"

Joe's heart twisted at the mixture of hope and fear in Peggy's voice. "Hi, Peggy," he greeted. "It's Joe. Sorry about dinner."

"Joe!" Immediately Peggy perked up. "Where have you been?!"

"It's a long story," Joe sighed. "One I can't really get into right now. But I owe you two an explanation and another time for dinner. I'll call you back sometime tomorrow, okay?" Inwardly he kicked himself. Maybe this wouldn't be over by tomorrow.

"Okay." Peggy still sounded a bit concerned. "Joe . . . is everything alright?"

Joe paused, not quite sure what to say. It definitely wasn't, but he didn't want Peggy to worry. "There's still some loose ends I've got to tie up," he said at last.

Peggy sensed that there was a lot more to it, but she wouldn't pry. Being married to a police officer had taught her well that there were times when the problems just couldn't be shared. "Be careful," she implored.

Joe smiled a bit. "As careful as I always am," he said lightly. "Tell that great old husband of yours that I'm sorry things didn't work out tonight. I would've much rather kept our dinner date instead of taking care of what I was doing all evening."

"I'll tell him," Peggy promised.

Soon they had said their goodbyes and Joe was hurrying out the door again, this time taking a company cellphone with him. If Lew's car phone was shot now too, Joe wanted to have some way of communicating with someone. He might need to call the state police in a hurry.

He prayed that whatever else had gone wrong, Lew was safe.

xxxx

Lew was tense all the way to Pine Lake. He didn't really believe Joe was dead—he _couldn't_ really believe it—but there was always the possibility. And if not that, Joe could certainly be hurt. There had to be some reason why he hadn't been answering the phone.

But there had to be some reason why the sheriff had sent a telegram instead of calling. And if Joe really wasn't dead, it screamed to Lew like a trap.

What kind of trap, though? And why? Did either of them know anyone from Pine Lake who might be angry with them? Lew honestly couldn't remember ever being in Pine Lake or knowing anyone from there.

As soon as he found the town, however, he knew there must be some connection that he just couldn't remember. The looks he saw from every townsperson coming into the street were filled with cold, hard hatred. The residents trailed on either side of his car, uncomfortably escorting it through the dirt street. When he reached the sheriff's office and stepped out, he had had enough.

"What is it with you people?" he demanded. "First Gus Fenwick innocently rolls into town. His car disappears and he calls Intertect for help. I send my best agent out to bring him back. The next thing I know, I'm receiving a telegram saying my agent has been shot. Now I come here to find out what happened and you gather around me like I'm the Devil himself!"

They all glowered at him stonily, not replying.

He looked up with a start as the door opened and the sheriff stepped out. "I think I can answer your questions, Mr. Wickersham," he said in a dark and unfriendly drawl. "The townsfolk aren't happy to see you, it's true. Yet in another way, they're glad you've come. At long last, we can have our revenge."

"Revenge?!" Lew whipped off his glasses, glowering in disbelief at the sheriff. "What on Earth have I or Mr. Mannix ever done to you?!"

An older man with a grizzled red beard stepped forward, his eyes unforgiving. "You killed our town doctor," he declared.

"What?" Lew turned to stare at him. "I don't recall killing any doctor. But if I did, he must have been shooting at me or someone else first."

"Oh, you didn't actually pull the plug on him," the sheriff said, sauntering forward as the townspeople began to close in. "But you saw to it that he was arrested and you testified against him at his trial."

"And the state killed him?" Lew supplied. "California rarely enacts the death penalty these days. If he received it, he surely must have deserved it."

"The men he killed needed killing," the sheriff snarled. "Sure, the state called it Murder One and said it was particularly brutal, the way he did it, but those mongrels weren't even human. They were animals, all of them."

Suddenly it processed. "You're not talking about Burton Davis," Lew exclaimed. "He murdered five people in cold blood!"

"Those five people bled every town dry they touched," the sheriff replied. "They were coming to Pine Lake next. And Burton Davis decided to make sure they couldn't ruin our town like they ruined six others before that."

"He could have called the police, had them arrested," Lew retorted. "Instead he chose to take the law into his own hands and play God!"

"Shut up!" The grizzled man lashed out, striking Lew hard across the cheek. He stumbled back into the car, not having expected the assault.

"Burton Davis was just finishing up medical school," the sheriff explained. "We'd all pooled our money into sending him there, with the understanding that he would come back here and be our town doctor when he was done. But you saw to it that he went to the death house instead. We haven't had a town doctor since then."

"There was nothing I could do," Lew snapped. "The man was guilty of murder several times over. Whether you want to believe it or not, he didn't have the right to take those lives!"

"Tell me something," the sheriff said, rocking back and looking at him. "Do you figure it's alright to kill if it's in self-defense or the defense of others?"

"That's a loaded question," Lew said. "If you're going to try to tell me Burton Davis was killing in defense of the town, it isn't the same thing. Those men weren't holding the town at gunpoint and threatening to murder everyone."

"No; they were just going to squeeze the town to death like a boa constrictor—slow and painful." The sheriff folded his arms. "We figure it was in defense of this town, alright. And back in the days when this town was new, no jury in the area would have convicted him."

"Of course not, if the jury was made up of people from this town," Lew said dryly. "But it isn't the days of the Old West and towns taking the law into their own hands. And Pine Lake has to abide by the laws of the state, whether it wants to or not."

"We don't want." The sheriff started to draw his gun from its holster. "And to our way of thinking, you're the villain, not Burton Davis. He wouldn't have been convicted if not for your testimony. So we're just going to do some more taking the law into our hands and seeing that you get the same sentence Burton did—death. Lew Wickersham, you are under arrest for murder."

"And whom am I supposed to have murdered?" Lew demanded coldly.

"Oh . . . Joe Mannix, for starters," the sheriff drawled. "You sent him here, just like you sent Burton Davis to the execution chamber."

Lew's eyes burned. "Mr. Mannix truly is dead then?"

"My telegram said he was," said the sheriff. "Boys, Mr. Wickersham is resisting arrest. Bring him down a peg or two, won't you?"

Instantly the grizzled man and several of those nearest to Lew lunged. Lew retaliated by sharply elbowing one in the ribs, kicking a second, and judo-flipping a third into a fourth. Then, reaching through the open window into his car, he activated the alarm. The car came to life, its headlights flashing on and off as it wailed its incessant honk.

The distraction was just enough. Lew darted to the darkened rear of the car, karate-chopping one last man in his way and fleeing into the alley at the side of the sheriff's office.

"Get after him!" the sheriff bawled. "Spread out, surround the town. He can't go far. And tonight we'll have a good old-fashioned lynching, just like in the old days."

The car phone rang as the sheriff reached into the car to shut off the alarm. He looked at it, lip curled, and ignored it. Whoever wanted to talk to Lew would just have to remain unfulfilled to that end.

Lew, still free for the moment, also heard it. But, helpless to do anything about it, he continued to run, his mind awhirl.

Was Joe really dead? Had these people killed him for the sole purpose of framing Lew for it? Or was he possibly still alive, but would be killed if Lew couldn't find him in time?

Lew started up a desperate prayer in his mind.

A bullet rang through the night, clipping him on his arm. He gasped in pain, rocking to the side and crashing into the side of a brick building. But then, righting himself, he kept running and fled around the back. His arm was stinging, but he would have to ignore that for the moment. He would be dead if he were caught.

Was the entire town against him, or were there some people who would have more sense? Lew wanted to believe the latter, but he couldn't chance it. Somehow he would have to hide and take care of his arm and look for Joe, all by himself. He was on his own.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Lew only stopped to catch his breath when he dove into what seemed to be an abandoned barn. Finding nothing living present, he crept into the darkest corner and drew his cellphone out of his pocket. If he could call for help from the state police, maybe he would be out of this mess before long.

But he soon scowled in frustrated disgust. Of course it wasn't going to be that easy; _No Signal_ flashed across the screen. He was too far out in the sticks to possibly hope for communication. Oh, he was sure someone else from Intertect would come out eventually, but for all he knew, that might be too late for him.

Balancing the phone on top of a horse's stall for a smidgen of light, he turned his attention to his arm. The bullet had just grazed him, really, and the memory of something he had said to Joe after being shot in a similar manner came to his mind.

"_It's not even bad enough to be heroic."_

"_Well, just grit your teeth and no one will know."_

Lew had to smile in the dark as he started to peel off his suit coat. Joe was always ready with some kind of quip.

He sobered in the next moment. Where was Joe right now? Was he alive?

He couldn't believe anything these people had told him. The telegram had been a trap; they had _wanted_ him to come.

But how far did the trap extend? Was Gus an innocent victim, a way they had thought to ensnare Lew's best friend and then Lew himself? Or could Gus be part of it all? Maybe they had paid him if he would agree to help.

Lew hated to think that. Gus really didn't seem the type; he was too scatter-brained and paranoid. But even people Lew had trusted had deceived him. People such as Fred Restin.

For that matter, when a long-time, trusted employee like Restin had turned traitor, even Joe potentially could . . .

_No!_ Joe was not like Fred Restin and never would or could be. He was a true friend and had proved himself time and time again. If he was involved in this, it was only because the townspeople had ganged up on him and abducted him . . . or worse.

Lew clenched his teeth against the sting as he finally got his suit coat off and could better examine the scratch in his arm. He was going to believe that Joe was alive until he had confirmation of the death.

And if Joe possibly wasn't alive, well . . . anyone responsible for that was going to regret it.

A rustle somewhere in the barn made him freeze before he could try wrapping his handkerchief around the injury. He was not alone in here, as he had thought and hoped. He wasn't going to believe it was Joe, although he couldn't help hoping. Maybe, possibly, there was an animal in here he had overlooked. Or maybe it was one of the townspeople out to get him.

Could they even move so stealthily, though? He had the feeling they were the types who would mostly clomp around to deliberately announce their presence and try to arrogantly strike fear into their enemies' hearts.

He jumped a mile when a pitchfork appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He only barely dived out of the way as it slammed into the wall. Grabbing his phone, he shined it in the direction from which the makeshift weapon had come.

A young girl with dull and short brown hair squinted in the light. "You're Wickersham, aren't you?" It was said matter-of-factly and without surprise.

"That's right," Lew confirmed. He stayed on guard, reaching to grab the pitchfork down when she made no motion to do so.

He raised an eyebrow when she outright ignored his attempt to take the sharp object and let him go ahead. "Aren't you anxious to lynch me too?" he asked. "Especially considering how you threw this?"

She shrugged and walked away, settling on an empty metal container that had once held milk. "This town is so full of hate it doesn't know up from down," she said. "I don't know whether to say those five men didn't deserve to die, or Burton Davis, for that matter. But I do know that going after you because of it is ridiculous. How they could expect you to cover for a bunch of murders like that is just . . ." She shook her head. "It's not like you'd have any ties to the place to make you think about doing it. And you're too honest to be bought, aren't you?"

Lew let go of the pitchfork but stayed by it as he resumed trying to affix the handkerchief over the broken skin. "Yes," he said emphatically.

"Did they try?"

"The mayor did. He offered me ten thousand dollars to keep it quiet. Coming to think about it . . ." Lew looked up with a start. "When the entire town had to pool its resources to send Davis to medical school, how would the mayor just happen to have ten thousand dollars in his safe?"

The girl was still unsurprised. "Probably some illegal deal. Folks here get away with most everything they want to. Nobody tries to stop them; they're all so interested in keeping the town going that nothing else matters."

"Yes, I got that impression." Lew clenched his teeth in pained frustration when he could not fumble the handkerchief's ends into a proper knot.

Finally the girl noticed and got up. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, walking over to him. "You're hurt." She took hold of his arm, examining the wound. "It doesn't look too bad, but it should be cleaned properly so it doesn't get infected. I'll take you back to my place and see about that for you. And meanwhile, I'll tie this on." She took the handkerchief and expertly fastened it over the injury.

"Thank you," Lew said, but felt wary. "Won't they want to lynch you too, if you help me?"

"Probably," she replied in a most unconcerned tone. "But that's nothing new. I don't really belong in this place. I don't fit in with all the hate. I was hoping I could find you before they did, actually, especially after I heard you'd got away from them."

Lew slipped his phone in his pocket and draped his suit coat over his good arm. "If you don't mind my asking, why do you stay in this town if you don't belong?"

She pulled the pitchfork out of the wall now, presumably to take it with them for defense. "Haven't you ever stayed where you didn't belong?" she said vaguely.

"Sometimes, I suppose," Lew said. "But I usually tried to get out as soon as possible."

"You're lucky," she said. As she started to lead him towards the door, she continued over her shoulder, "I'm Jenny, by the way. And it's not so easy for me to get out—not when I'm the sheriff's daughter."

Lew rocked back in disbelief. "You?"

She glanced back at him. "Like I said, I don't fit in."

"No," Lew agreed. "No, you don't." And he was grateful for that. At least there was some reprieve from an immediate hanging.

But for now, he would stay on his guard anyway. Just in case.

xxxx

Joe was tense as he drove down the isolated road into the woodsy area where the Pine towns were. He passed Pine Cone, which was wreathed in darkness, and then frowned to himself after another mile. Lew should have found his car farther along the road. When he had, he should have called in to Intertect. But there had been no communication from Chris or anyone else to tell him that Lew had checked in.

Nor was there any car. He slowed to a halt, staring at the vacant stretch of road in disbelief. This was definitely where he had been forced to stop when the loose tire had bounced free; he remembered the big boulder at the foot of the electricity tower. Now there was nothing, not even tire tracks.

He grimaced. They had taken his car away, probably complete with the right size tire. They hadn't wanted Lew or anyone else to find it. But why? What on Earth was going on? Why did they want Lew to think Joe was dead?

In desperation Joe again called both Lew's car phone and his cellphone. Of course there was no answer either place, but this time Joe opted to leave a message on Lew's voicemail, something he rarely did since he detested talking to machines.

"Lew? Look, I'm alive and just fine. I don't know what's going on here, but maybe by now you do. Hang in there, okay?" He hesitated. In case someone else might be listening to the message, he didn't like to say that he was coming in, but if this was some elaborate plot, he had to assume that they were expecting him anyway. "I've called the state police," he said cleverly. "I've talked to the head of the Highway Patrol, Dan Mathews. He's sending some of his best boys out there."

It wasn't quite true, but Joe had had occasion to run across Mathews before, and he was certain that Mathews would be interested and willing to help however he could, once Joe really did call and tell him what was wrong.

"I'll see you soon, Lew," he said, and ended the message.

Soon he was driving again, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. Part of him was almost afraid to know what was wrong. The only reason he could think of as to why the sheriff had sent Lew a purposely-false message was that he must want to lead Lew into a trap. And what for? When had Lew ever come into contact with anyone from that town?

Hey, that was a good question. He grabbed the phone again. "Chris?" he greeted when he was put in touch with Intertect. "Have you guys been running down any connections Lew might possibly have with Pine Lake or anyone from there?" Knowing Intertect, he would be surprised if they hadn't been peppering their beloved supercomputers with such instructions.

"We have, actually," Chris said. She definitely sounded worried. "I was just about to call you, Mr. Mannix."

"Well, lay it on me," Joe frowned, bracing himself for the worst.

"Mr. Wickersham investigated and testified against Pine Lake's would-be town doctor a year ago," Chris replied. "He was recently executed for the five murders he committed."

"Five?" Joe said in disbelief. "Why didn't I know about this case?"

"I think you were on assignment elsewhere. You still should have heard at least a bit about it, but Mr. Wickersham tried to keep you and the other Intertect agents out of it. It was his case, and for safety's sake he didn't want to involve anyone who didn't have to be." Chris sounded both loyal and sad.

Joe let out a frustrated breath. "Yeah. He's like that." And he knew that sometimes he could become so caught up in his own problems that he didn't pay attention to Lew's, such as when he hadn't realized that Lew was ill and irrational due to a bad reaction to a prescription. So perhaps his lack of knowledge was partially his own fault, as well.

He shook himself back to the present. "So what's the deal? Was someone in Pine Lake a loyal family member or friend of this doctor and now wants to get even with Lew?"

"It could be," Chris replied. "He did have a girlfriend—Jenny Algers, the sheriff's daughter."

Joe swore in his mind. "I still can't reach Lew on the phone. I should be coming up on Pine Lake soon. If you don't hear from me in an hour, you'd better call the state police."

"Alright. Oh, and Mr. Mannix, there was one other thing. The arresting officer for the doctor? It says his name was Marcus Fair."

Joe gripped the steering wheel, displeased. "So if this is a plot, he'll probably be targeted as well," he worried.

"Maybe. The report says that the charges probably would have been reduced or even dropped if not for Mr. Wickersham's testimony. He was the district attorney's star witness."

"What about the D.A. himself?" Joe frowned. "He could also potentially be a target."

"Potentially," Chris agreed. "But if he is, they haven't made a move on him yet. Mr. Hamilton Burger is safe at home in bed."

"I suppose the computers checked on that," Joe said wryly.

Chris ignored that. She didn't spar with Joe over the usefulness of the computers the way Lew did. "I really think that Mr. Wickersham is the only person they're focusing on right now. Officer Fair is about to go off-duty and home to his wife."

"See that he gets there safe, won't you?" Joe stared ahead. "I have to go; the turn-off sign for Pine Lake is easy to miss, especially in the dark."

"Alright. Good luck, Mr. Mannix." Chris paused. "Please bring Mr. Wickersham back alive."

"That's sure what I'm aiming for," Joe said, and hung up.

The turn-off for Pine Lake was just ahead, to his left. He quickly made the turn, keeping alert as he traveled up the dirt road. What would he find at the end of the path? Lew's car? Lew?

Lew could hold his own in a fight, as Joe had known from the very first time they had met. But if someone like the doctor's girlfriend had hired some thugs or gotten some friends from town to gang up on Lew at once, he might not stand a chance. No one could always come out on top in a fight, after all. Not even Joe Mannix.

But hopefully, at least, even if Lew was hurt, Joe would get there in time to keep him alive.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Lew stayed suspicious and alert as Jenny led him through the darkened town side streets and alleys. It sounded like the bloodthirsty mob was yelling from all sides, closing in on them, but Jenny knew several slippery tricks to avoid them. Or at least, it seemed that she did.

Lew wasn't a man who could be fooled easily, or for long. Although he had gone with Jenny, and had been relieved for her to appear rather than someone who wanted to murder him on the spot, he really didn't trust her. After several minutes he said, "You certainly have your ways of staying away from them. You must get a lot of practice."

"Yeah." Jenny sounded vague again, keeping hold of Lew's hand as she led him down another alley.

"It couldn't be, could it, that you're some kind of a plant meant to lure me into a false sense of security?"

Jenny didn't even stiffen. "It could be," she said noncommittally. "I told you I'm not with the townspeople, so I guess it's your choice whether you believe me or not."

"I want to believe you," Lew said. "I just don't know if that's practical. Especially considering both that you're the sheriff's daughter and that you threw a pitchfork at me."

"I made sure it wouldn't hit you," Jenny said. "I wanted to see how on the ball you were. I guess you could say I was being playful."

Lew gave her a sharp look. "And you expect a man on the run for his life to find it amusing when a deadly weapon is heaved at him?"

"I guess not." Jenny was still speaking in that same vague, matter-of-fact tone, as though nothing in the world could faze her.

Lew found that oddly disturbing too. "Are you always this emotive?" he said sardonically.

"It usually serves me fine." Jenny came up on the back of a two-storey white house and took out a key. "Here's my place."

"Is it your father's place too?" Lew asked with a definite amount of unease.

"Yeah, but I'll take you to the second floor," Jenny said. "He isn't up there much."

"He'll probably search everywhere for me," Lew retorted. "Including in your house. If I'm on the second floor, I'll be trapped. I don't think I should go in there. Why don't you just get the first aid kit and come back out here?"

"Somebody could come around before I get back out," Jenny pointed out.

"I'll take my chances. I'll have a better chance of survival if I'm not in a home where the sheriff is most likely to come above others." Lew walked over to the back wall. "I'll stay here and wait, unless he or someone else starts coming."

Jenny shrugged. "Okay, if that's how you want it." She unlocked the door and vanished inside, closing it behind her.

Lew shifted his weight, feeling more unsettled than ever. She could have gone in the house to call her father, instead of retrieving a first aid kit. He had already determined that he could not trust anyone here, so while he agreed that she did not seem to fit in with the town, he did not know that it really meant she could be the one exception.

The fact that she remained so detached from everything bothered him. That was more or less how he imagined Joe had thought of him before they had actually met—detached, efficient, and unaffected. Instead, Joe had discovered that he was warm and could be emotional (as well as efficient). He was more human than machine. But this Jenny, with her strange nature, almost seemed more machine than human.

Lew frowned, eyeing the pitchfork that she had left standing just beside the door. On the one hand, he could look at it as her leaving him something to defend himself with. On the other hand, if he were attacked and used it, the town could twist it around and lie, saying that Lew had attacked without provocation. And Jenny surely knew that. Lew would have to not use it, unless it became an absolute necessity.

He tensed at the sound of footsteps, pressing himself against the wall. Nearby, someone shouted to check on the sheriff's house. After all, Lew wouldn't know which house was his and he might wander into it thinking he was safe. A second person responded that they would scour the entire area, including the house and behind it.

That was that, then. Lew certainly couldn't stay here. He was about to push away from the wall and flee into the shadows when the door opened and Jenny slipped out, the first aid kit in her arms.

"We have to get out of here!" Lew hissed. "People are coming to check this area."

"We'll go," Jenny said, again taking Lew's hand to lead him through the alleys. He remained tense, not certain if she was going to really lead him away from his enemies or towards them. But the voices grew farther away as they vanished and Lew hoped it was safe to relax. Nevertheless, he didn't anyway. It could still be a trap.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Back to the barn, maybe," Jenny said. "It's a safe place, at least."

"They'll get around to it eventually," Lew objected.

"And by then you should be on your way out of here," Jenny said.

"I'm not leaving without Mannix," Lew insisted. "The last I knew about him, he was here."

Jenny frowned. "I'm not sure if he still is or not. I thought he was leaving."

"I'm out here because I received a telegram that he'd been killed," Lew said. "I don't believe he's dead, but they might be holding him captive." _Or he was __**trying**__ not to believe Joe was dead, anyway._

"They might be," Jenny said slowly, "but it seems like I would have heard about it. He could've escaped and they just sent the telegram to you, figuring you'd get here without running into him first."

"Do you know everything your father and this town plan to do?" Lew retorted.

"No," Jenny said slowly. "But I know a lot of it."

"Look. There's only one road leading from here to Los Angeles," Lew pointed out. "If Mannix got away, how could the two of us not have encountered each other on that road?"

Jenny shrugged. "He could've stopped in some other town. Or he could've reached the city and been going through all that heavy Los Angeles traffic while you were leaving to look for him. There's lots of ways it could have happened without him being here and hurt."

"You know they want to kill me," Lew said. "Do you think they'd just let Mannix go, knowing what he is to me?"

"I can't answer that," Jenny said, sounding vague again. "Would they know?"

"They've had a year to research me," Lew said. "I can't believe for one moment that they wouldn't have learned all about Intertect and Joe Mannix."

Jenny pulled him around another corner and pressed her hand against his chest, silently telling him to get up against the wall.

Lew needed no coaxing. He did as she wanted, soon hearing two more voices nearby.

"There's still no sign of him."

The second voice cursed. "He's a crafty one. He's been a detective for years. He could find places to slip into where we wouldn't think to look until he was long gone. And he knows how to manipulate people. Don't count out the idea of him figuring out how to make a few good buddies, even here."

"I'm not counting out anything. I just wanna make sure we get that lynching. I wanna see him hanging from that old tree, his neck all broke. Or maybe we should use that other way of doing it, where they strangle instead, you know? It'd be a lot more painful and lasting."

Lew couldn't help but cringe at the thought of either fate. His hand subconsciously went to his throat.

For the first time, Jenny showed some emotion. "Pain-loving animals," she murmured darkly.

At last the two men passed and Jenny pushed herself away from the wall. Lew went with her, following her down several more alleys before they finally found themselves arriving back at the old barn.

Jenny pushed open the door and stepped inside, still guiding Lew with her. He went willingly, closing the heavy door behind them.

Suddenly Jenny was upon him, pushing him back into the door as she ran her hands down his vest. She had set the first aid kit on top of a horse's stall, now not seeming to care a thing about it.

Shocked, Lew at first could not find his voice. "What are you doing?!" he exclaimed when she started to loosen his tie. He reached up, grabbing her wrists.

"Justified or not, you _did_ send Burton to his death," Jenny said quietly. "We were going to be married, so I think you owe me something for that." She leaned in, trying to kiss him. "I'll be happy to marry you as payment."

Lew pushed her back, desperately trying to snatch the first aid kit that she had abandoned. "You're out of your mind!" he cried. "I'm not going to marry you or anyone else just because I may or may not owe them something!"

Jenny shrugged. "It's either me or the town," she said. "Don't you see? You're my ticket out of this place. I marry you, I marry into a multi-million detective operation in the big city."

"And you might decide to murder me so you'd inherit it all," Lew retorted.

"I'm not a murderer." Jenny pulled free of his grasp and tried to run a hand through his hair. "I'm a lover, not a fighter. I guess that's why I never could figure out how to get out of this fighting place."

"I won't be your way out," Lew snapped. Taking up the first aid kit, he started to open the door.

Jenny held her hand over the crack separating the two doors. "That's your final decision?"

"Yes!" Lew insisted. "If your help comes with that price, I'm not going to pay it. I'll get out of this mess on my own."

Jenny took her hand away. "Good luck."

Lew opened the door slowly, making certain that no one was around. Then he stepped out, fleeing into the night.

xxxx

Lew's car was the first familiar thing Joe saw as he approached the town of Pine Lake. He slowed, peering at it from a distance.

Lew definitely wasn't in it. And no one else was around, either.

Joe frowned. Lew was probably in the sheriff's office; the light was on in there. But if that were true, why was he getting such a bad feeling?

Slowly he got out of the car, shutting the door as quietly as possible as he tiptoed up to the window. No one was inside. And every rifle was missing from the rack.

Chilled, Joe turned away. Something was wrong, very wrong.

Maybe a town mob had got together and had gone after Lew, and maybe the sheriff had gone after them. But if the sheriff wasn't in on things, why had he sent Lew that telegram? No, he was probably involved up to his neck. And that probably meant that Lew had no friends in town. Joe knew these types of controlled towns all too well. If anyone wasn't aligned with the political machine, they were too scared to speak out against it.

When a shotgun barrel suddenly poked in Joe's back, it was half-expected. "Get your hands in the air, Mannix," an unfamiliar voice drawled. "We were expecting you'd be back."

Joe obliged. "Let me guess," he said. "You're the sheriff." He had only heard Sheriff Algers' voice briefly, but he thought he recognized it, and anyway, the most logical candidate for who would be lying in wait right here was the sheriff.

"You're sharp." The barrel poked him again. "I'll just keep you with me and then we'll use our P.A. system to call to your boss and tell him he'd better give himself up if he wants to keep you alive."

That was all Joe needed to hear; he wasn't about to ask questions. Furious, he spun around without warning and snatched the rifle, wrenching it out of the stunned sheriff's hands. Pushing the man back, Joe kept the shotgun and turned to run.

That was when something came down on the back of his head without warning. Stars exploded in his vision and he collapsed to the wooden planks surrounding the sheriff's office.

Sheriff Algers sneered, pushing his hat back on his head. "Good work, Myers," he said, congratulating his deputy as the man emerged from behind Lew's car. "Take him inside."

"And lock him up?" Myers said with relish.

Algers nodded. "See that he can't get out. If he's running loose through town, it could really stir things up. He's Wickersham's best agent, and for good reason."

"He won't get out," Myers insisted. A cruel grin split his features as he bent down, grabbing Joe under his arms and dragging him across the planks.

Joe didn't stir. He was thoroughly unconscious. And Lew, who was on the other side of the small town, had no idea of Joe's current plight.

xxxx

Peggy perked up as the door opened and a tired but satisfied Marcus stepped inside. She hurried to him in relief, reaching to take his hat and coat. "Welcome home," she greeted with a tender smile.

Marcus smiled too. "Hey, I thought I told you not to wait up," he scolded lightly.

Peggy shrugged. "Well . . . you were gone, and Joe hadn't made it over for dinner, and all in all, I was lonely."

"You had Toby," Marcus replied, bringing an arm around his wife as he kissed her.

"A baby isn't much company when he's sleeping most of the time," Peggy returned, hitting him lightly on the chest.

"Okay, okay." Marcus led her to the couch and they sat down. "So did you ever find out why Joe didn't make it over? I bet Mr. Wickersham put him on some new assignment that gobbled up all of his time."

"That's close," Peggy said, relaxing against him. "Joe _was_ on assignment, but it was supposed to have been finished. Mr. Wickersham was worried too." She frowned. "Later on, Joe called and told me that he was back, but he had to tie up some loose ends. He didn't want to tell me anything more right then, but he sounded so tense and worried that after a while I called Intertect again and talked to Chris. She told me that Mr. Wickersham had gone looking for Joe and Joe had to go out and find him."

"Oh boy." Marcus shook his head. "What a tangled web."

"And Marc? There's something else." Peggy sat up straighter, looking into his eyes with worry. "They're out at Pine Lake." Marcus stiffened. "Isn't that where that murderer Burton Davis was from?"

"It sure is," Marcus said. "Oh man, I remember that case all too well." He shuddered. "Finding those five mangled bodies here in L.A., and Davis right on the scene, not even denying he'd done it. . . ." He started to get up. "I was sure glad when the jury came back with a verdict of Guilty on that one. I know we're supposed to be impartial, but sometimes it's a lot harder than others."

Peggy pushed herself off the couch as well. "Do you think that case has anything to do with why Joe and Mr. Wickersham are out there tonight? That town seemed awfully protective of Davis. I can't believe they would've just let things go so easy."

"I don't know," Marcus admitted. "It could be a coincidence that they're there. But maybe I'd better call Intertect and talk to Chris too."

"And if they _are_ in trouble, what then?" Peggy worried.

"Then we'd better get the state police, if they haven't already been called," Marcus said.

"And you'll want to ride out with them, won't you," Peggy said quietly.

"I'd hate to just stand on the sidelines," Marcus said. "Joe's our friend."

"But they might be glad to get their hands on you too!" Peggy cried. "And speaking of standing on the sidelines, isn't that what I do every day?"

Marcus looked into her frightened eyes. Finally he gave a small smile. "Okay. I guess maybe I could stand to wait it out with you one time, since Pine Lake is kind of out of my jurisdiction."

Peggy smiled too. "Good."

But she still had to wonder if that was what would play out in actual practice. Even though Pine Lake was out of the city police's jurisdiction, Joe _was_ their friend, and really, they would both like to be there to make sure he and Mr. Wickersham would be alright.

She prayed a silent prayer that no matter what happened, they would all come out of this safe.


End file.
